Fiddles & Footprints
by lostcowgirl
Summary: A young actor, at first accused, uses the opportunity to learn the fundamentals of tracking down criminals. Will he absorb what Matt Dillon has to teach him before he and the suspects leave Dodge?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 – Too Many Strangers**

Matt Dillon looked warily at the hordes of people on Front Street and in the various hotels, rooming houses, restaurants and saloons. It was the height of cattle season so his town was overrun with cowboys, cattle buyers and the gamblers, drifters and others who lived to separate the cattlemen from their hard earned money. Right now that included a theatrical troupe from England scheduled to give a series of performances at the Comique, Dodge City's opera house and theater, and a traveling baseball team composed of the dregs of St Louis trying to earn an easy living and a few true sportsmen who simply loved the game.

Since dusk had just fallen, he made his early rounds checking each building to make sure nobody was trying anything underhanded while the proprietors went to have supper with their families or that no early fights were brewing. His stomach reminded him that his last stop would be the Long Branch and supper with Kitty. He hoped she'd suggest they forgo Delmonico's and eat in her rooms. It would provide a bit of relaxation away from the early summer crowds, but he doubted she'd had time to cook anything.

Even with Chester helping, it was nearly eight by the time he'd finished. The last Matt saw of his assistant Chester Goode was his back as he accompanied Doc Adams a half-hour earlier into the restaurant. At least that meant Kitty Russell, now the sole owner of the Long Branch saloon, and he wouldn't be sharing their restaurant table. Matt peaked over the batwing doors searching the barroom before spotting her deep in conversation with her head bartender Sam Noonan.

He headed in her direction, but it was Sam who spotted him first and offered his usual friendly greeting. Then Kitty, noticing his approach, spoke up.

"I was beginning to wonder if we were still having supper tonight. Despite the crowds, I think I can manage to spare enough time for us to eat at Delmonico's. Maybe we'll even finish our meal together, although if we don't, it won't be the first time."

For once, they did finish the meal. Things actually remained quiet enough that Matt began to think maybe he and Kitty could take in the second show at the Comique that night. The building where these theatrical performances were taking place provided an opportunity for the respectable citizens of the town and Ford County to be entertained without tainting a lady's reputation. It was run by a group of women who called themselves the Ford County Cultural Society. Their husbands provided the wherewithal.

"Matt, you surprise me. With all these people in town can you really spare the time to take me to the performance?"

"I know there are very few times when you get to experience anything approaching what was available to you in New Orleans and San Francisco even if most of your time was taken up with necessities."

"Thank you for putting it like that, Cowboy. It's a fact I miss the theater and opera, but that still doesn't answer my question about how you have the time."

"I expect to have even less time tomorrow, since it's Saturday. Chester is keeping an eye out during the early performance. I'll do the same at the later one, but if nothing happens I'll be there with you. You've got to know I'm not all that keen on Shakespeare, but spending the time there with you will make it bearable."

Matt hadn't paid too much attention to which play it was and was glad Kitty was pleased with it, although she glared at him at first because of his remark about her making it bearable. Perhaps if he knew what it was about he'd enjoy it more. She explained it was about two feuding families and that despite that the girl from one and boy from the other fell in love just like Judy Pierce and Andy Bowers. Only in this case the young lovers didn't run off together with the preacher marrying them along the way, they both died.

The play was over and nobody had tried anything in the crowded theater or looked the least bit suspicious. Matt walked Kitty home and was about halfway through his late rounds when Sam caught up with him.

"Sam, Kitty's alright isn't she?" Matt burst out before he could think what he was saying. "Is the Long Branch still in one piece?" he added.

"It's not anything like that, Marshal. In fact, it's personal. Things were getting lively and the crowd wanted some music other than the piano to keep it that way, so I went to get my fiddle. It wasn't where I'd left it on the shelf next to the shotgun behind the bar. I checked everywhere. It's gone. Someone must have taken it."

Knowing the importance Sam placed on his fiddle, Matt agreed to look into it, but was distracted by a couple of fistfights in the Lady Gay and Texas Trail before he could get to the Long Branch to find out if anyone there saw anything. While he was questioning the assortment of cowboys, miners, buffalo hunters, railroad men and every other manner of man who'd chosen a night of drinking and gambling with the help of a small horde of saloon gals and a fair bit of music, he couldn't help but notice the keen interest displayed by one of the young actors. Since the boy wasn't going anywhere, Matt decided to leave him for last and accompany him to his boardinghouse room.

It might not lead to Sam's fiddle, but the lawman knew he had to start somewhere. He'd take Sam along too so the bartender could identify his property. Matt knew nothing about fiddles except like with Chester's guitar each instrument was subtly different. Right now the Englishman's unusual interest in the matter was all he had to go on, although any of the strangers might have made off with it. He couldn't figure any of the people now in Dodge to let off steam would have any interest in stealing it, but with so many strangers about there was reason to believe someone wanted it badly enough to steal it.

Matt asked the lad to accompany him and Sam to the rooming house where the actors were all staying. Since he was one of the youngest members, still relegated to playing relatively minor parts despite his obvious talent, he shared the room. Only the stars of the company got the best rooms to themselves. In fact, the leading man and lady, the married couple whose company it was, had a room over at the Dodge House rather than with the rest of the company at the cheap boardinghouse. It took about 15 minutes to walk from Front Street to Central and River Streets where the building was located, almost into Rat Alley south of the river, the worst part of town.

The young actor made no objections to the marshal searching his room. It didn't take long for them to uncover a fiddle in a hard case carefully hidden among his belongings.

"Care to explain this?" Matt asked as he opened the case and handed the instrument to Sam to identify. "I'll be wanting your name along with your explanation."

"My name is Sherlock Holmes, Marshal and that violin you just handed to the publican is mine. I purchased it at a pawnshop in London. Had the proprietor known what he possessed, I never could have afforded it."

While they were talking, Sam picked up the bow from the case, and nodding at the young man, began to play a tune. He was astonished by the rich tone that came forth.

"Marshal, what was stolen from me is a fine instrument, but it doesn't come close to this one. My fiddle was stolen, but this is a violin. I'd need a heap of formal musical training before I could do this justice," he said as he respectfully returned the Stradivarius to its owner.

"Holmes, you're free to stay here or go wherever you want in town. I've got nothing to hold you on, for now. I still think you might have taken Sam's fiddle in case something happened to your own. Elsewise, why would you be so keen on following my investigation?"

"I can explain that. I wish to turn my talents for observation into a career. I've even coined a term for it, consulting detective. Until now all the crime I've witnessed in Dodge City has been without interest. It merely consisted of barroom brawls and a few items taken without payment from the general store. I don't believe, Mr. Jonas, the owner bothered to burden you with it. The thread and ribbons were taken by a young lady obviously too poor to afford the items. Her husband, a struggling farmer, paid a small amount down, which was duly noted in the store ledger along with the cost of the few necessities that were added to their account. I suspect he knew she took the items. The remaining stolen merchandise was some penny candy and a couple of apples taken by a pair of urchins as poor as the farm couple. From the smile on Mr. Jonas' face when they departed from his premises, he was completely aware of what they had done. The stealing of our friend here's violin was the first crime that had any mystery to it. I wanted to see how you approached it, so I watched you intently. If only I'd arrived in time to observe the thief, I would describe him for you now, but alas, he purloined it before I arrived from the theater. May I be so bold as to request your cooperation in my continuing to observe your methods?"

"I don't see any harm in it. Just you keep quiet unless I ask you about what you might have seen," Matt told him as they turned back toward the Long Branch.

The three men arrived at the saloon in time to see one of the baseball players getting a bit too friendly with Kitty. When her protests went unheeded, Matt unceremoniously pulled him away from her and knocked him flat with one punch before telling his pals to take him to his room to sober up.


	2. Chapter 2 Baseball & Maybe a Bit More

**Chapter 2 – Baseball and Maybe a Bit More**

The next morning Matt and Kitty were having breakfast together in Delmonico's when the manager of the St. Louis Red Stockings, Rad Kingsley, approached them. Matt already knew the team was traveling across Missouri and Kansas to try to raise enough money so the team could join the National Association, a professional baseball league.

"Sorry to interrupt your meal with the young lady, Marshal Dillon, but I wanted to catch you away from your office. I believe I already spoke with your assistant yesterday and he assured me you'd have no objections to a game this afternoon for which we plan to charge $1 per man or woman and 50¢ per child. I'd like to put up the posters, but I need the name of the player/manager of your local ball club. I was hoping it would be you."

"I reckon I could put a team together and even pitch if the game doesn't last too long. I didn't think about you not having enough players to field two teams. If I do this, though, I'd like to choose the umpire. I've a man in mind whose honesty can't be faulted, our town doctor. By the way, some of the town folks built grandstands so folks would have seats."

"Mr. Kingsley, I'd be happy to provide the beer and other refreshments. I'll take a third of whatever you take in for selling them. That way we both can make some money. Not many men will be at my saloon during the game anyway," Kitty volunteered.

Posters were plastered all over town within the hour announcing a game at 2 PM with Matt as the pitcher/manager of the home team and Doc as the umpire. The Dodge City team had Chester in right field, young Dave, Moss Grimick's employee in center, Fred, one of Kitty's bartenders in left, Tom Green, Delmonico's proprieter, at third, Mr. Jonas' helper Dwayne at shortstop, bank teller Ken Burroughs at second, Sam at first and blacksmith Emil Mueller as catcher to round out the team. Matt had no idea how good they were, but all of them claimed to have played at some point and were the best he could round up at such short notice without resorting to recruiting any of the temporary citizens. Louie Pheeters was in charge of the concessions in exchange for free whiskey when the game was over plus $1. The town would receive 50% of the ticket sales, which made Mayor Kelly and the town council quite happy.

By game time the citizens managed to create a diamond on the western edge of town and even put up the temporary grandstands down each foul line to hold the expected crowd. Those who couldn't afford to pay or were too late to find a seat got to stand behind the temporary fence around the outfield. Getting into the spirit, even those who had to stand, but managed to be in the front rows and those who found seats in the trees agreed to pay the admission price to support their town in addition to placing side bets on the outcome and on individual players.

The Dodge team did remarkably well for a bunch of men who'd never practiced together. Chester proved the accuracy of his arm by throwing out a runner trying to score. He sent it on the fly to Mueller, who was blocking access. Matt, not being used to pitching in anything but a pickup game, was all over the place before he got control of his throws. By game's end, he was able to mostly get it where he wanted with a few exceptions.

In the first inning Matt's inaccuracy allowed two of the visitors to take first on a walk and four to get hits before three outs, so the home team was behind by three runs before they even batted at the ball. Dodge City managed to bat five men in their half with the big blow coming from Matt. Although, because of his size they expected Matt to hit the ball hard, if he connected at all, they still played him as shallow as the rest of the hometown players. Because Dave was able to send the ball between the first and second baseman, there was a runner at first with one out when Matt came to bat. Duke Pritchard, the visitors' pitcher, decided the big marshal needed to be shown what it's like to have a ball come toward your head because Matt had nearly hit him during the first half inning and to try to intimidate the big man whose town it was. The ball missed by no more than three inches despite Matt's quick reflexes allowing him to get out of the way. The outfielders moved farther in. On the next pitch Matt sent the ball high and deep. He was around third heading for home by the time the centerfielder was able to corral it among the feet of the outfield spectators sticking out under the fence and relay the ball toward home. Sam followed with a hit between third and shortstop before Chester popped out, making the score 3-2 after one.

Thanks to Matt's increased prowess on the mound and the home team's improved fielding due to the practice they had during the game, fewer visitors reached base. He did let loose with one pitch to Pritchard in the seventh inning that grazed the opposing pitcher's temple, knocking his cap off. Otherwise, the game moved along without incident.

It was the ninth inning when Chester got to the ball quickly in right and was able to awkwardly bend down to field it, turning and throwing in one motion as he straightened and planted his good left leg for more power to get the visitors' speedy second baseman trying to score from second. The throw put runners on second and third with two outs, but their third baseman grounded out second to first to end the inning with the home team still one run behind with the score at 4-3.

This time it was young Dwayne Higgins, the young clerk for Wilber Jonas and the Dodge City shortstop, who was on base when Matt came to bat again. The outfielders had learned from the first inning experience and now played the marshal deeper, but even so, Matt had managed to send a line drive past third for a double in the fourth, but wasn't so lucky with a hot grounder toward the first baseline on which he was out in the sixth. Still, if he managed to hit it to where there were no fielders that could easily reach the ball, Higgins just might score the tying run and he'd be in position to score the winning one. He took up his place in the batter's box to await the first pitch. He knew the St. Louis team wanted to win, but didn't think their pitcher would try to throw the ball at him because he'd shown he wasn't intimidated by the tactic and if he was told to take his base, they'd be putting the winning run on the base paths without benefit of a hit. Therefore, he was completely unprepared for the ball coming toward his head. Again, his quick reflexes allowed him to duck out of the way. This was followed by one thrown behind him, two in the dirt in front of him, two pitches he managed to swing and miss at, one that hit his bat and the final pitch that hit him in the back of his right leg on the calf when he jumped to avoid it hitting his left leg.

"Take you base," Doc yelled.

Matt limped to first sending Dwayne to second, but Sam ended it with a grounder to third where Dwayne was tagged out. The score remained 4-3. The visiting, soon to be professional, St. Louis Red Stockings had prevailed.

Rad Kingsley caught up with Matt as he was leaving Doc's office, where Adams had insisted, along with Kitty, that he come to see if there was any real damage to his leg. By the time Kingsley caught up with him, the leg was feeling better and a relieved Kitty was happy to have him escort her back to the Long Branch for the start of a lively, to say the least, Saturday night at the height of the cattle season.

"I want to thank the two of you for engineering a very successful afternoon. Your local squad put up a much more competitive show than I'd expected in a town like this. We did very well and I think we can make just as much with a game after church lets out tomorrow afternoon. Perhaps it could be combined with a picnic social. I'm sure that sort of thing happens in a town this size. We can catch the Monday evening train to our next destination, Garden City. From there we can turn back east toward Hays."

"I have no objections. I'll let the preacher know to make an announcement in church and we can post new signs for everyone else. I'm sure the ladies will be happy to auction off picnic baskets if you'll accept that the town will get half, the church a quarter and your team the remainder. We'll keep the same arrangement for ticket sales and refreshments during the game itself."

"Thank you for being a sport, Marshal. Since we're turning pro, I wouldn't mind adding a second pitcher. With your size and natural ability you could be twice as good as Pritchard with some concentrated coaching and practice. It would mean a change of career, but I don't guess it will mean much less in pay. It will also mean more travel, but a lot less facing of danger except from a baseball."

"While I'm flattered you think so much of my ability, my answer is no. Kitty here already calls me stranger far too often because of all the traveling I've got to do. I wouldn't want to travel more and I did swear an oath to uphold the law here in Kansas or wherever Washington chooses to send me. Playing a boys game for a meager living doesn't sit with me as a sound reason to change from my current means of earning a meager living and Kitty, don't you try to tell me at least it's less dangerous."


	3. Chapter 3 The Lessons Begin

**Chapter 3 – The Lessons Begin**

Matt was happy to oblige Kingsley and agree to the catcher/manager's request for a second game, although he thought he'd skip pitching for the sake of his gun arm and switch positions with Chester. It meant there was still time to find Sam's fiddle among the ballplayers and maybe the actors, although his gut was telling him they were a less likely group. The actors had always planned on leaving on Monday's train for Garden City. He, Doc and Kitty continued walking to Delmonico's for supper where several of the actors were eating, including young Holmes.

"Marshal Dillon, I know you're busy, but have you had time to get any further with the missing violin?" the tall, thin young Englishman with the dark hair and sharp nose asked. "I'm anxious to learn as much as I can from you before our troupe leaves for another village."

"Sure, Holmes. If you're not needed at the theater for a bit, you can join me and Chester on our early rounds. I don't expect you'll need a gun as long as you're with me, but Chester will take one of the rifles with him just in case there's trouble. With all these strangers in town, you never know when you might need it."

Soon Holmes was walking alongside Matt as he checked on the businesses along Front Street and on each side street along the north side of the main thoroughfare. Chester did the same on the south side, but there were fewer businesses closer to the river and those south of the water resented the law butting into their affairs unless there was trouble the owners couldn't handle themselves. If the business was still open, he merely peered in through the window, but if it was closed, he checked the door as well.

When they arrived at the alley behind the Long Branch Matt pointed out the different types of prints and how to tell which came first. Holmes was shown how to tell a mule from a horse and one horse or mule from another by their shoe prints. Matt also pointed out the differences in shoe prints. He showed Holmes that several baseball players had been that way the previous night by pointing out the unique triangular print made by the two spikes at the front of the shoe and a third spike at the heel. They also found prints made by the higher heeled boots of the cowboys, those made by the broader heeled boots of farmers and the shoes of the town dwellers and visiting businessmen. Matt explained that there were too many prints, even with eliminating the more recent ones, to determine which set might be the ones of the man who stole Sam's fiddle. He gave Holmes the task of tracking the cleated shoes of the ballplayers because they were so distinctive.

The young man eagerly set about his assigned task, but lost the trail in a weedy area as the man turned the corner out of the alley into the yard of one of the cheaper rooming houses where a number of the ballplayers were staying. Matt then showed him how to pick up the trail again by sensing the direction from the way the weeds were bent. Holmes scrutinized the ground and soon gave a triumphant cry as he spotted the double set of cleated shoes again. They led up to the front steps of the house.

Holmes was all for going into the house and confronting the occupants in an effort to find the missing musical instrument, but Matt halted him. He explained that they needed more information before they did that because there was nothing to tie anyone in that house to the fiddle except the men had been at the Long Branch and walked to the rooming house. Matt warned him about acting too soon and possibly destroying any chance to solve the crime.

"We need to listen to conversations and draw the men out so that we can narrow down who might have taken it. Then it's a matter of piecing together all the evidence so you have a clear idea in your mind of the sequence of events that led to the crime and how it was done. My overly quick reactions in your case could have proved disastrous if it had been, say murder, and the wrong man overheard. It's an easy mistake to make, but not always a healthy one."

The lesson over, Holmes made his way into the Long Branch to drink his beer and follow the marshal's advice while he sat nursing his drink until he had to join his fellow actors at the opera house for tonight's performance. Tonight's single one would start an hour later than last night's early show. Matt, for his part, went in search of Holmes' boss so the actor/director could get a heads up on the baseball game before the posters started to appear. Sure enough, Trevor McIver went straight to the printer and then the Comique manager so he could cancel the Sunday matinee and replace it with a Monday matinee. His troupe would have to bring their belongings to the dressing rooms so they wouldn't miss their evening train.

Despite Matt's fears, Dodge remained relatively quiet through the early part of the evening, with only a few barroom brawls to mar it. As a result, and thanks to her willingness to leave overseeing the saloon to Sam and Polly, one of the older girls, Kitty agreed to accompany him to Delmonico's. Two pairs of eyes watched them leave for the restaurant. The two belonging to the eyes left the Long Branch within a few minutes and strolled down Front Street in separate directions.

Matt had told Chester to only come get him if somebody got himself killed or was about to or if one of the saloons was being torn to pieces as the customers rioted. As their steaks led to more coffee and slices of pie, he decided to prolong their time at the table as long as possible. He had an itch that told him once he left Delmonico's the rest of his night would be very busy.

Finally, by nine o'clock, neither of them could put off returning to work any longer, so Matt and Kitty rose from their table and walked out of the door to cross Front Street. They stepped up on the opposite boardwalk just as they approached the alley between the post office and stage depot with Kitty walking closest to the buildings. Suddenly, Kitty gave a sharp cry and leaned in closer to Matt. Next thing he knew, he was keeping her from falling to the ground as he heard footsteps running down toward the back of the alley.

Matt scooped Kitty up into his arms and headed directly for Doc's office; whoever ran down the alley would have to wait. He hoped she'd only fainted, but wasn't about to take any chances with the most important person in his life. It wasn't until he'd reached the top of the stairs that he remembered Doc was at the Comique. Since he was already there, he tried the door, but it was locked. There was nothing for it but to carry her up the back stairs of the Long Branch and into her rooms. The key was in his pocket for use later that night if she invited him for a nightcap after closing.

Matt shut her door behind him and walked as quietly, yet quickly, down the stairs as he could. He didn't want to cause more panic than he what he felt. When he laid her down on the bed, after pulling the covers down, and went to loosen her dress to make her more comfortable, he noticed how pale she was and became aware of blood on his fingers. He'd kept enough presence of mind to use what cloth he could find to form an outer bandage to keep pressure on what was obviously a wound and then wash the blood off his clothes and hands before heading downstairs to draw Sam aside so they could speak privately. Sam nodded at Fred and Polly to take over while Sam went upstairs explaining that Miss Kitty wasn't feeling too well so he'd go upstairs to see what he could do while the marshal went to get Doc.

By the time Matt arrived at the opera house, it was intermission and the play was half over. He looked frantically around for Doc, finally finding him talking to Jake Worth by the refreshment counter. Doc took one look at his friend and knew at once something was seriously wrong despite the big man's efforts to hide it.

"Excuse me, Jake," Doc told the rancher. "It looks like there's been some trouble and my services are needed. I know how this play ends anyway."

"What is it, Matt?" Doc asked as he and the lawman walked out the door into the street. "I can tell by how hard you're trying to keep your body from letting me know how worried you are, that this isn't some cowboy who got into a fight he couldn't handle."

"It's Kitty, Doc. I don't think she was shot. At least I didn't hear anything except a gasp from her, but I'm afraid she's hurt real bad."

Soon Doc had the whole story as they raced down Front Street as fast as the old man could, stopping only for him to grab his medical bag and the instruments he thought he'd need. They then raced up the stairs in the Long Branch, Matt taking them two at a time so he could open the door for the doctor and race to Kitty's side. Sam hadn't been idle. He'd replaced Matt's bandage, using strips of cloth from one of his employer's petticoats, and put up a pot of water to boil and cleared out the washbasin for Doc to use.

Kitty was pale and unconscious as Doc took up his position next to the woman he loved like a daughter. He listened to her chest through his stethoscope and checked her pulse before bending to examine the wound, for that's what it definitely was underneath her dress and the bandage Sam had provided. Looking at Matt, who'd taken up a position on the other side of the prone redheaded woman, his hand firmly clasping hers, he moved away from the bed to prepare his instruments.

"Thanks, Sam. I'll help Doc with whatever he needs. Keep this as quiet as you can."

"Matt's right. Kitty needs you to keep her business going smoothly on a busy Saturday night. We'll let you know as soon as there's anything to report," Doc told him as the bartender hesitated.

After what seemed like ages to Matt, but was somewhat less than a half-hour, Doc finished repairing the damage caused by the knife wound. As far as he could tell the sharp, narrow blade had cut deep but missed any vital organs as it was thrust in and just as rapidly pulled out. The operation finished, the physician turned to the other man in the room.

"Matt, you do the most good if you find the bastard who did this. I'll stay with her and will let you know as soon as I know something more. I won't know for certain she'll make it until morning, so get out of here and do your job, Mr. Marshal!"


	4. Chapter 4 Foreign Assistance

**Chapter 4 – Foreign Assistance Leads to Possible Solutions**

Matt left Kitty in Doc's hands determined to find the man responsible for stabbing her. He didn't want to leave her, but knew Doc was right. The bushwhacker had to be caught and the longer he stayed upstairs, the harder it would be to track him down. He left the Long Branch for the alley where it had happened, surprised to see Holmes at the entrance studying the ground in front of him.

"Holmes, you'd better not have messed up anything. The evidence here is for attempted murder, not a stolen fiddle. As much as Sam values it, it's just a piece of wood and more easily replaced than his employer."

"My apologies, Marshal. I had no idea these footprints held any significance beyond a chance for me to see how much I've learned. I welcome the chance to apply your lessons. I was careful not to disturb anything as I followed the tracks to the back of the alley and out to the front again. It appears that two men were at the head of this alley, but only one stayed. That one was the bigger of the two. He lingered and then ran toward the back of the alley. However, although there were several paths he might have taken to head toward another street, I believe those either belonged to other men or were made much earlier. He turned back to the front of the alley and then headed across the street to the Lady Gay Saloon."

Matt followed the path Holmes had taken and agreed the young Englishman was right. He'd never had anyone pick up the art of trailing a man quicker and praised him for it.

"Thank you for your praise. If nothing else, I am an observant and logical man and only seek to improve upon those powers so that I might better apply them to the solving of crimes that baffle the police. I only have one question before I leave you to your task. I couldn't help but notice that Miss Russell, the bartender Sam's employer, is more to you than just another business owner whom you are sworn to protect. How is it that you are investigating the attempt on her life rather than sitting by her side?"

"She'd be the first to answer that. While I put saving lives first and foremost, once I see to providing the necessary medical care, I put emotion aside and focus on my duty to my badge, which is to enforce the law. If I let emotion interfere, my judgment will be clouded and I'll miss some vital clue that will allow me to find the killer or spoiler, who is all too often well hidden."

Although he largely ignored the young man, Matt allowed Holmes to follow along with him as he pursued Kitty's would be killer. He used Holmes as a sounding board as they walked into the Lady Gay, going over in his mind every drunk Kitty had had thrown out of her saloon and everyone that also had a grudge against him as well, because he'd been the one to throw the man out. There were far too many possibilities and far too little reasons for any of them to take things this far. To possibly get a fresh angle on the problem Matt listened to what Holmes had been able to overhear that afternoon. All it amounted to were lots of grumbling, particularly on the part of one ballplayer to his teammate, but there was nothing to set it apart from any other man with a chip on his shoulder.

Finally, no closer to finding who had stabbed Kitty than he was earlier that night, Matt parted company with Holmes. He gave the man the task of continuing to look into who might have taken Sam's fiddle and if he happened to come across something that helped with Kitty's stabbing to report to him immediately. Holmes, following Matt's advice to find out as much as he could about all the possible suspects, had already eliminated his fellow actors. However, he wouldn't entirely rule them out until after he searched their luggage in the dressing rooms on Monday. He needed to learn more about the ballplayers, since he wouldn't have the same opportunities to learn about them and their possessions. Therefore, the Englishman set about feigning enough interest in their sport to perhaps ingratiate himself enough into the confidence of one of the players so that he could find out more of their background and a possible motive for either crime.

The street was quiet by the time Matt headed back to the Long Branch where Sam was closing up. He helped lock up and dejectedly climbed the stairs to check on Kitty.

"There's no change. Go home and get some sleep. Perhaps something will surface in the morning that will be of help."

Matt reluctantly complied with Doc's suggestion and headed down the back stairs. Soon he was unlocking the door of his rented room, tired and frustrated with his lack of progress. If he'd been more alert, he might have sensed someone was watching him.


	5. Chapter 5 Holmes Provides an Answer

**Chapter 5 – Holmes Provides a Means to the Answer**

Matt enlisted the help of every man he could trust, but was still no closer to finding the coward who'd stabbed Kitty. He'd gotten very little sleep the night before and no new insights. Instead his overworked mind kept returning to how it would have been better if he were the one lying in his bed with a knife wound and no sign of the bushwhacker. All he knew was that time was running out if it was one of the actors or ballplayers. Even some of the earliest arriving cowhands and drifters would be gone by Monday evening at the latest.

The town was quiet when the marshal arrived at his office where Chester already had the coffee ready. He drank down the proffered cup while exchanging information with his assistant. Chester had nothing new to add to their store of clues either. The two left the jailhouse, but Matt had no appetite so he turned toward the Long Branch to check on Kitty while Chester went to eat breakfast. The saloon wasn't open for business yet and wouldn't be until after church so Matt headed down the alley toward the back stairs. When he entered the room he stood and stared at the bed and Doc Adams beside it.

"I'm sorry, Matt. The damage wasn't as it appeared. The change was sudden."

"Doc, why didn't you tell me right away?"

"I am telling you immediately. You saw me pulling the sheet over her when you opened the door. I have no time for overgrown public servants who I bet haven't found out who in this town goes about stabbing young women," he added testily.

By the time Matt left Kitty's room Doc had managed to cajole him into accompanying him to the ballgame and church picnic when would much rather have sat by her side and quietly mourn her passing. Of course, that wouldn't help him find her killer and so he'd agreed to accompany Doc. Maybe it would confuse the killer enough that he'd make a mistake in Matt's presence. Both men agreed to keep her death to themselves. Maybe Matt wasn't ready to accept life without her, but something didn't feel right, like he'd missed something.

Matt arranged for one of Jake Worth's riders to substitute for him in right field. He wanted to circulate in the crowd. Whether or not he'd learn anything he didn't as yet know, but somebody had better even if it was Sherlock Holmes, whom he hadn't seen since the night before. Kitty was lying in her bed and her murderer was still free.

The gossip flew as the game progressed, but Matt learned nothing of significance. Meanwhile in the game, Chester never came close to hitting Pritchard with the pitched baseball like Matt had yesterday. In fact, his throws were so accurate that the Red Stockings batters were having trouble hitting him. Eight of them struck out during the course of the game and in only one inning, when a pretty new girl who had come to visit her uncle the town baker caught his attention by smiling and waving, did they manage to get more than one man on base. They scored three runs during that fifth inning and the Dodge City nine lost 3-2. The home team couldn't manage any more runs without their big hitting marshal in the lineup.

Doc and Matt, having dutifully paid for the restaurant provided picnic basket, took seats by one of the nearer tables where Sam, Chester and Holmes joined them. Chester, despite his lack of funds, had managed to purchase the visiting girl's basket. For some reason she looked on him as a local hero.

Sam bought Polly's basket that the Long Branch kitchen had fixed before putting out the free lunch and Holmes had simply included himself in the group by bringing his own basket from Delmonico's while the rest of the actors ate along with the ballplayers in the town's many saloons and restaurants.

Chester was too wrapped up in the new girl to notice how quiet his boss was, but Sam and Holmes did. They chose not to say anything despite the fact Doc and Matt kept turning the topic away from how Kitty was doing. The two men would likely open up when they could hold a more private conversation. Holmes didn't expect to be included, but he deduced the saloon owner had succumbed to her wound. Still, the young man wanted to talk to the lawman.

However, it wasn't until after Matt was leaving the picnic area that Holmes was able to get the marshal alone to report his findings. He was quite sure he now knew who had stolen the fiddle Sam kept behind the bar when he was working, but he wasn't sure he had pinpointed who had stabbed Miss Russell except that it was definitely one of the baseball players. He'd learned the background of the instrument thief when Carl Collins, the St. Louis team's second baseman admitted he'd grown up in the theater and looked upon his ball playing as a more athletic way to entertain people that he happened to have the talent for. The man was quite talkative about all the members of his team not just shortstop Hal Reinhold, whose folks had come from the country during the war when he was just a lad and had lost his grandpa's fiddle somewhere along the way. Hal roomed with Duke Pritchard.

Matt didn't care much about rushing to grab Sam's fiddle. He'd send Chester to get it tomorrow before the man checked out of his rooming house. He was having problems focusing on anything but Kitty. Doc was taking care of her coffin and arranging for the funeral in the churchyard on Tuesday morning. At least that's what he'd told Matt he was doing when he left him. Chester and Sam were still in the dark about it, but Doc said he'd take care of that as well.

Matt nodded politely at what Holmes had to say and was about to dismiss the young man so he could go off and brood by himself, when he got the idea that taking Reinhold might lead to learning more about who stabbed Kitty, but only if he was the second man in the alley that night. By now Matt was certain from Holmes descriptions of the personalities that it was one of the ballplayers who'd attacked Kitty. He sent Holmes to find out more about the St. Louis men from his new friend while he tried to find out where each of them was during their off hours. Even if he learned nothing, at least it gave him something to do that mattered to him in the slightest.

All of the men on the team had gaps when nobody could account for their whereabouts except the teammate they were with. From experience, Matt knew they'd cover for each other. They were no different from Texas cowboys in that way as he explained to Holmes about the Texans distrust of Kansans and Kansas law, in particular, added to the camaraderie of being on the rode together for months at a time.

That evening after the performance, Matt set Holmes the task of keeping an eye on Reinhold and Pritchard, who were spending their last night in town working their way through every saloon. They were spotted first in Texas Trail when Matt mechanically made his early rounds and were gradually working their way from the lowest to the best saloon. Chester had them under his watchful eye in the Oasis when Holmes took over for him. By the time both lawmen had completed their rounds, Chester had joined Matt, Doc and Sam at their favorite table in the Long Branch, but there was no sign of Holmes or the two ballplayers. A few minutes later the Englishman burst through the batwing doors and made directly for their table.

"Marshal, Reinhold has turned in for the evening. He's in his room too drunk to go anywhere else. Pritchard is meeting with their manager, Kingsley to finalize getting ready for tomorrow's departure. What's interesting is the bit of conversation I overheard before coming to get you. Reinhold admitted having the fiddle in the room and Pritchard seemed quite pleased with himself for pulling something off even if it didn't end quite the way he wanted it to."

Matt walked with Holmes and Chester to Ma Palmer's rooming house over on Central and Cherry. They knocked on the door, searched the room, found Sam's fiddle and arrested Reinhold. There was no sign of Pritchard.


	6. Chapter 6 All's Well That Ends Well

**Chapter 6 – All's Well That Ends Well**

Although he knew he wasn't thinking as clearly as he should, Matt felt certain Kitty's murderer wasn't too far away. He made a big show of locking up Reinhold so his quarry would know about it before he sent Holmes for Sam. It was time to tell Sam and Chester Kitty was gone and, if he was right, the killer as well. He still wasn't sure if the actual killer was Pritchard or if he was simply an accomplice, but his gut told him the pitcher was involved. Maybe his mind wasn't entirely clear, but he could see no reason for any of the Red Stockings to have stabbed Kitty.

When Sam stepped into the jailhouse, Matt was seated at his desk with Chester was at the table, Sam's fiddle in front of him, the bow draped across it. Sam walked over to it and was about to return to the Long Branch with his recovered property, too preoccupied to deal with pressing formal charges or even if he would do so after hearing the thief's story. He was too fond of his boss for that.

"Have a seat, Sam. I've something to tell both of you. "Kitty passed away this morning; Doc's making the funeral arrangements. I've known almost since it happened, but I waited until we were alone because I know how much she meant to you."

"Well, forevermore, Mr. Dillon, as hard as it is for me and Sam, it must be even harder for you and Doc. I'll do anything you think might help."

"Marshal, I appreciate you finding my fiddle and arresting the man responsible. Still, like Chester, I'll do what I can to ease things for you and Doc."

"Thanks, both of you. Going after Kitty's killer is the only thing keeping me going. He's still out there, but I'm hoping arresting a fiddle thief will flush out a murderer. Here's how you can help. Sam, go back to the Long Branch and sit with Doc up in Kitty's rooms while Chester holds down the jail. I'll be along directly."

Matt walked out of his office with Sam, who'd absent mindedly picked up his fiddle and bow. As if sensing the man with him had more to say, he stopped on the boardwalk in front of the jailhouse and waited for the big man to talk.

"Right now you, me, Chester and Doc are the only ones who know about Kitty, although Holmes may have figured it out. I'd appreciate it if you'd keep it that way while I still have hopes of catching her killer. Doc's holding off on the coffin and service to give me a bit more time. I've got things to check that will put the cowardly bushwhacker who killed her in my hands," Matt added more loudly. "See you later."

As soon as Sam moved away from him toward the Long Branch, Matt headed toward the stables but, after going inside as if to get his horse and ride off alone, he ducked out a side entrance and doubled back the way he'd come. Using the back alleys and staying in the shadows, he walked to the jail's back entrance leading to the cells, leaving the door open, and then entering the back cell hiding himself in a dark corner where he could hear someone at the window of the other cell talking to Reinhold.

"Reinhold, I hope you've been playin' it smart. My plan of killin' the marshal's woman instead of him has worked better than I hoped. I suspected, but wasn't sure the bitch was dead until just a few minutes ago when the law dog told the barkeep. He's gone off to sulk somewhere, leavin' that gimp that helps him to watch your cell. They don't really care about you and if you lay low we can hop the train tomorrow with nobody the wiser."

That was all Matt needed to hear. He moved behind the open door waiting for Pritchard in his arrogance to come through it in the belief the grief stricken marshal forgot to close it or maybe it was the squirrely-brained assistant who forgot when he fetched up wood for the stove, although he had to admit the man was good for something – he had an arm. Whatever the reason, the path was clear for him to bust out his teammate before anyone knew he was gone.

Duke Pritchard was two feet into the cellblock ready to reach through the open door to the office for the key. He would use his knife on the jailer only if the man noticed him, but that probably wouldn't happen because he also seemed to care about that worthless redhead who wasn't willing to do her job.

"Hold it right there, Pritchard. You won't find the keys on the peg. I kept them when I locked up your friend. Don't give me any excuse to kill you and believe me it won't take much."

Pritchard glanced behind him at Dillon holding his six-shooter pointed at his lower back and saw the hate in the big man's eyes. He didn't doubt he was a dead man if he didn't do exactly what he was told.

He walked into the empty cell with the beckoning open door. Matt closed in on Pritchard, keeping his gun cocked against the man's kidney and took away his knife before shoving him hard against the cot in the rear of the cell and locking the door.

"Unless Sam insists, I'll release your friend tomorrow so he can get out of Dodge and never come back. As for you, I look forward to seeing to it that you hang all legal and proper. Chester, you heard him confess?"

"I sure did, Mr. Dillon. I was listenin' just like ya tol' me ta do when ya sent Holmes fer Sam."

"Pritchard, one more thing. I need to know why. I'll find out even if I have to beat it out of you."

"You would too. I felt your fist Friday night, but you weren't through. You knew exactly where you were throwin' that ball that grazed my head. Reckon Friday night wasn't enough for you so that Saloon girl has to mean a lot more to you than the front for you as owner. I also didn't like Kingsley offerin' you a chance to take my place on the team. I coulda told him the real reason you turned him down. I watched you squire that redhead around town to everythin' and even pretend what she had to say meant somethin' to you. She was your woman and killing her would hurt you for the rest of your life, which is what I wanted to do for doin' me like you did. A man's got his pride and no whore or cow town copper is gonna best me. Stickin' it in her gave me a lot more satisfaction than knifing you seein' as how I couldn't do it to her with another bit of equipment."

Matt, not bothering to correct Pritchard about who owned the Long Branch, turned away so as to hide the tears he was fighting and to keep himself from choking the man to death against the bars of the cell for the insults to Kitty after he'd already killed her. Matt strode past Chester, through the front door, which he slammed behind him, and down Front Street to the saloon. He spotted Doc and Sam at the bar and marched up to them.

"I got him. He confessed. The sooner the formality of his trial is over, the sooner I'll be rid of the temptation to kill him myself."

"Matt, I stopped Sam from going inside. There's no need for him to see Kitty for one last time, but you need to see her alone. I've had my time. It's now yours. If you want, Sam and Chester can come up later. Oh, I'm glad you haven't ruined your life by murdering that scumbag as tempting as it is. Kitty wouldn't want it and it won't bring her back. Go up there and come to terms with it all."

The physician was right. Matt did need some final moments alone with her before she was put in a coffin. Trying to decide if any meaning remained in his life, he trudged up the stairs and turned the door handle that would let him into her rooms. Doc had left it unlocked. He opened the door, willing himself to step over the threshold and face the proof of the worst thing that had ever happened to him, even the death of his parents.

"Come on in, Cowboy. I've been waiting for you."

For the first time in his life Matt Dillon nearly fainted. He caught himself enough that he stumbled forward and then fell onto the bed without falling on her where she lay, propped up by pillows.

"Kitty, you're alive! Doc pulled the sheet over you when I came by this morning and told me you'd died."

"Doc and I thought if the bushwhacker knew I was still alive you'd be dividing your attention between protecting me from a second attack and finding out who stabbed me. This way all your attention would be on catching him. You got here sooner than we expected this morning, but thankfully you never noticed the breakfast tray Doc didn't have a chance to cover was for two or our scheme wouldn't have worked. Can you forgive us?"

"I don't know about forgiving Doc, but I love you. All that matters is you're alive!" he exclaimed as he bent his head toward her and kissed her full on the lips."

The next evening Kitty was strong enough to come downstairs to join the others in saying goodbye to Sherlock Holmes, whose train was leaving in an hour, and celebrating her survival. The young man had learned his basic lessons in footprints and tracking without being seen well, but most of all his assistance had brought down a would-be woman killer, providing the emotional detachment Matt told him was necessary when the marshal couldn't quite do that himself. Hal Reinhold also joined them. Matt had kept his promise to release the man if Sam didn't press charges. Chester was also there because there was nobody to guard at the jail. Duke Pritchard had pulled a derringer he'd hidden in a pocket when Matt failed to thoroughly search him for hidden weapons and pointed it at the Marshal when Matt came to tell Pritchard the charge was now attempted murder. Chester, who was bringing in food for Reinhold at the time, spotted it and warned his boss so that he sidestepped and fired. Pritchard's shot hit the wall, but Matt's hit its mark, right through the heart.


End file.
